


And Then There Were Two

by YanderexBabydoll



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Team Bonding, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderexBabydoll/pseuds/YanderexBabydoll
Summary: Kuroo really doesn't appreciate how close you've become with the MSBY Jackals.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 21
Kudos: 335
Collections: HAIKYUU|HQ





	And Then There Were Two

“That doesn’t look like stretching, Miya!” you sing out.

The blonde glances up from the phone he’d ‘snuck’ into practice, offering you a lazy smirk, “Oh yeah? Ya wanna come give me a hand then? I think my hamstrings are a little tight - they could really use yer help loosenin’ up.”

Your cheeks flush as he winks, but you’re saved from answering by Bokuto’s booming laugh, “Hey, if you wanted help, all you had to do was ask, Tsum-Tsum.”

He’s on his feet and barrelling towards the setter before you can stop him, and as you drop your chin onto the palm of your hand with a sigh, you catch sight of Sakusa staring at the duo with an unimpressed scowl and behind him, Meian shaking his head. 

The team is spread out across the gym floor, supposedly cooling down after a long, intense practice. The V-League season’s starting in only a few weeks and already you can feel the hunger and anticipation building around you like static electricity. They’ve been training relentlessly, day in day out because they _want_ this. They want to take the cup, to dominate. The team’s strong this year - stronger, thanks to their newest addition - and they’re dedicated… most of the time.

With the coaches being called away to a meeting with some exec from the Japan Volleyball Association (something about pre-season promotional stuff?), they’ve left you to supervise the latter half of today’s training session, and it’s going about as well as it usually does.

It’s not that they don’t respect you. You’ve worked your ass off for this team for the last two and a half years, they’re practically your family and you know for a fact that despite being relatively low in the pecking order, on the court, whether it’s during practice or in the middle of a game, they’ll listen to you. They _trust_ you. 

But it’s been a long day, they’re all still amped up and they don’t tend to take cool downs as seriously as they should at the best of times. No reason to take it personally.

And besides, it’s not like you’re not used to the stunts they pull.

Atsumu’s incessant flirting and jibes, Bokuto being an excitable force of chaos, dragging his old disciple into his tricks (you’d _hoped_ that Hinata was going to be a stabilising presence for the team. How foolishly optimistic of you), Sakusa’s barely concealed disdain at his teammates' childish antics - it’s condition normal, and while you’d never admit it out loud, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

The sight of Bokuto and Atsumu rolling around the vinyl floor, the latter trying to kick the laughing wing spiker away does kind of fill you with an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, but being their manager and all… 

“Alright guys, c’mon. Can we _please_ -”

A sharp whistle cuts through the remainder of your plea, and you’re not alone when you suddenly jerk and spin to the source of the noise.

There, standing by the big double doors is the assistant coach, a lone eyebrow raised as he surveys the mess of a team before him - but that’s not what makes you do a double take.

It’s the man standing to his side, a familiar shock of dark, messy hair contrasting sharply with the crisp lines of his suit. You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips as golden eyes fall on you.

“Kuroo?” The words don’t come from you, but Bokuto, having found his way to his feet and coming up behind you. “Bro, you didn’t tell me you were visiting Osaka!”

But those cat-like eyes don’t shift and you feel your cheeks warm as a slow grin spreads across the ex-captain’s face. “Y/N?”

“You know this scrub?” Atsumu asks, draping a sweaty arm across your shoulders.

You glance from him to Kuroo with a faint smile, “Yeah, we went to high school together.”

***

You’re not quite sure how you found yourself sitting in the ramen joint down the road from the gym, squashed in between Atsumu and Bokuto, the former’s arm once again slung over your shoulder, with Kuroo sitting opposite you and Hinata to his right, but here you are. 

Kuroo had been the one to suggest going out for dinner to catch up, and he’d barely finished getting the sentence out before Bokuto was eagerly agreeing, spouting off ideas of where you guys should go to eat. Never one to be left behind, Hinata had all but jumped at the chance for an impromptu reunion and once Astumu realised that you were going (not that you ever actually remember saying yes) he decided on tagging along too. You honestly don’t know whether you were relieved or disappointed when Sakusa’s face had screwed up into a grimace at Bo’s attempts to get him to come join them.

“No,” he’d said, acting as if they’d asked him to stick pins into his eyes instead of inviting him to dinner.

And that was the end of it. 

Or at least, you’d thought it was, until he’d glanced back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Don’t let the idiots drag you into anything stupid.”

You’d both elected to ignore the outraged cries of the others around you. Kiyoomi was your saving grace at times, but you knew how to handle your boys… _mostly_.

But sitting in the crowded restaurant, they were behaving. It’s nice. Really nice, actually.

It’s been years since you’ve last seen Kuroo, and between the familiar banter of your wing spikers and setter, you feel right at home. 

The food is incredible, the stories flow easy and you find yourself almost in tears laughing as Bokuto reminds you of the time Hinata tripped over a stray ball and accidentally pantsed poor Adriah trying to stop himself from falling (on his second day of training, mind you). You do feel a tinge of guilt when the redhead flushes, but he perks up easily enough when you reach across the table to ruffle his hair affectionately.

“That’s when we knew you’d fit right in,” you tell him, and the beaming smile he gives you in return nearly lights up the room.

You know a lot of managers, particularly in the V. League, try to keep personal and professional separate with their teams, but you’ve never been that kind of manager. They’re your team, and you adore them to pieces, faults and all. 

Though you could probably do without Atsumu hanging off of you and Bokuto switching drinks halfway through because ‘yours tastes better’.

Yet for all your happiness, you can’t help but notice that Kuroo doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much as everybody else at the table. He’s grinning that same lazy smirk you’ve come to know over the years, laughing when everybody else does, and he’s quick to throw barbed jabs across the table that rile Bo up all too easily and make Atsumu _simmer_ , but something just feels a little _off_ about it all. The amusement on his face doesn’t quite seem to reach his eyes and you’ve spent enough time around professional athletes studying their condition to read the tension he’s holding in his shoulders. 

Part of you is tempted to pull him aside and ask him if he’s okay, but-

With a little pang, you realise that you don’t really have that kind of relationship with him anymore. You guys lost contact after high school - you moved away and threw yourself into University and he… well, you don’t even know _what_ he was doing. Clearly, whatever it was worked out for him, because getting a job for the JVA is _huge_ , and maybe that’s why he’s a little out of sorts. He’s probably just tired and overworked - you can’t exactly blame him for that. It must be stressful with the start of the season fast approaching.

Except you’re not the only one who seems to notice how off he’s acting, because when Kuroo slips away to duck into the mens’ room, Atsumu leans in close.

“Didja break the rooster’s heart or somethin’, doll?”

You frown, shooting him an odd look only to find that instead of the teasing expression you’re expecting, Atsumu looks deadly serious.

“What? No, why?”

He shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. “He keeps lookin’ at ya funny, that’s all.”

There’s more to it than that, you can tell, but Kuroo returns a moment later and the conversation is forgotten. It doesn’t slip your notice, however, that Atsumu slides just a little closer when he sits back down.

Golden eyes settle on you once more, and again you feel a faint fluttering in your stomach. “Want another drink, sweetheart?”

God, he hasn’t called you _sweetheart_ since high school.

***

The air outside is surprisingly crisp when the five of you finally stumble out of the restaurant. Hinata’s the first to leave, followed by Bokuto, who picks you up and spins you around in a tight bear hug before trying to do the same to Kuroo. You have to fight back another laugh when the latter shoves him away with a playful scowl.

“Get home safe, Bo,” you tell him, and he grins back at you as you wave him off.

And then it’s just the three of you. 

You sigh, sated and content, before turning back around to face Kuroo. “Thanks for tonight. It was good seeing you again, Tetsu,” you say, reaching out to wrap your hand around his larger one, squeezing it just once. “If you’re in town for a while longer, maybe we can grab coffee or something later this week?”

“Coffee sounds good,” he says, smiling back at you - the first genuine smile you think you’ve seen all night.

You have to admit, it’s a good look for him. He’s always been handsome - even back when you were back in school - but the years apart have done him well. He _really_ fills out that expensive suit of his, and you swear he’s taller, too-

There’s a pointed throat cleared beside you, and you drop Kuroo’s hand as you turn to Atsumu, flushing just a touch.

“How’re ya gettin’ home tonight?” he asks, barely sparing the other man a glance.

You shrug, “Walking. It’s only about twenty minutes and it’s not too late.”

The single cocked eyebrow tells you he’s not incredibly impressed with your answer.

“I’ll walk ya, then.”

After all this time, it really shouldn’t surprise you when he acts like this. Beneath all the snark, the ego, the never ending flirtation, Atsumu Miya might just be one of your favourite people.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not being ridiculous.

“‘Tsumu you live on the other side of town,” you remind him fondly, “you’re not gonna walk me home. I’ll be fine.”

He opens his mouth again - no doubt to argue with you - when Kuroo interrupts. “You live downtown, right?”

You nod.

“I’ll walk you home. My hotel’s down that way.” He grins, glancing over at Atsumu standing to your side, “If that’s alright with _Tsum-Tsum_ here.”

“Kuroo, don’t be rude,” you chastise, but Atsumu just scoffs and rolls his eyes, entirely unbothered by the provocation. 

“Just text me when ya get home, ‘kay?” he mutters into your ear when he pulls you into a parting hug.

You promise you will, and then there were two.

“So tell me something, Tetsu,” you begin as the two of you start to wander back down the crowded street. “Your hotel’s not downtown, is it?”

There’s a wicked glint in those golden hues as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, “It could be.”

Kuroo chuckles at your exasperated sigh.

“Aw, c’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that. You can’t really blame me for wanting you to myself for a little bit, can you?”

There’s a faint fluttering in your heart, but you let the comment slide. You know Kuroo doesn’t mean anything by it - he was _exactly_ the same back in school. 

It’s good to see some things never change, you suppose. 

Besides, he’s not wrong. Dinner with the others was great, but you spend most of your time with them - you haven’t seen Kuroo in years.

The two of you fall into an easy conversation as you walk. It doesn’t really surprise you that inevitably, the conversation swings back to Volleyball. He asks how you ended up managing the Jackals, and inevitably, that leads to his curiosity about the team itself - specifically your relationship with them. 

“You guys seem pretty close is all. It’s not really something I’ve seen with other pro managers and their teams,” he says with a shrug, and you can’t help but smile at that.

“They’re incredible players - I mean you’d know - you played with Hinata and Bokuto back in school and they’ve only grown since then - but this team, I just…” you break off with a sigh and a small laugh, shaking your head, “they’re like my second family. I can’t help but love them, dysfunctional as they are.”

Kuroo makes a low noise from the back of his throat and you think you see a flicker of disapproval in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can be sure. 

“And Miya?”

You almost, _almost_ stop walking, because there’s _definitely_ an edge there. “Like you said, we’re close.”

A tense beat passes, and you can practically feel the weight of his unreadable stare bearing down on you. 

Friends or not, if he’s about to lecture you about getting ‘too friendly’ with a team of big, bad professional athletes - _your_ team, mind you - you have no qualms about walking the rest of the way home alone. You’ve heard it all before, and it never comes across as anything less than patronising and insulting.

But then Kuroo does something that surprises you - he laughs. “You sure do know how to make a man jealous, sweetheart.”

And just like _that_ , the tension floats away from your body and you find yourself beaming up at him once more. “You can’t still be upset that I chose to be the manager for the Nekoma girls team, Kuroo!”

“Can too,” he teases.

“My best friend was the team Captain, what was I supposed to have done?”

Kuroo scoffs, “Told her that you were going to join a better team that actually had a chance at Nationals like I asked you to?”

Another laugh bubbles out of your throat and you let yourself fall against his shoulder as you walk. “I missed this, you know? Us - hanging out together. I hate that we lost touch after graduation.”

Golden eyes study you for a long moment, “Yeah, me too.”

Kuroo’s quieter after that, but he seems content enough to let you fill the silences with meaningless chatter and before you know it, the two of you are standing out the front of your apartment block. 

He doesn’t say a word as you lead him off the sidewalk and up the steps to the looming entryway, but he makes no move to leave either, watching you intently.

It’s late - not ridiculously late, but considering you don’t have the luxury of a sleep in tomorrow morning, late enough. You should head inside, take a quick shower and try to get a reasonable night’s rest.

You _should_ be responsible, but there’s a nagging feeling that’s been bugging you since dinner. He hasn’t been acting himself all night - it might’ve been a while since you’ve seen him last, but you know him well enough to _know_ there’s something genuinely bothering him, and it worries you. He’s a friend, and you don’t like seeing him so out of sorts.

Maybe a drink might not be the worst idea in the world. 

***

It’s hard not to feel a little self conscious as you usher Kuroo into your humble apartment, but he doesn’t seem to pay all that much attention, aside from the casual, “Nice place,” thrown out as you flick on the lights.

On your way to the kitchen, you belatedly remember your promise to Atsumu, and grab your phone to shoot the setter a quick message, telling Kuroo to make himself at home with a vague gesture towards the living room.

_Home safe_

_Seeya tomorrow, don’t forget we’re starting early tomorrow_

_Pls don’t be late!!_

Three bouncing dots appear on your screen as you set it down on the counter, turning to the fridge. You’re not much of a drinker yourself, but as your teammates have a tendency of crashing at yours, your fridge (and your pantry, for that matter) is always well stocked. 

“I have Kirin or Asahi if you want beer, or there’s pear cider… unless you want something a bit stronger?” You’re pretty sure you’ve got half a bottle of whiskey stashed somewhere around here, and maybe some sake as well. There’s also a few bottles of wine, but Kuroo doesn’t really strike you as much of a wine drinker. 

Then again, who knows? Maybe he is. 

There’s no response.

“Kuroo?” you call, straightening up.

Except, instead of lounging across the couch where you’d left him, Kuroo’s leaning over the kitchen counter a few feet away, flicking through the phone in his hands.

 _Your_ phone, you realise with a jolt.

“Kuroo?” you repeat slowly, letting the fridge door swing shut. “W-what are you doing?”

He looks up, and you catch sight of the withering scowl painted across his face before it morphs into something cold and calculating. An uneasy feeling prickles at your spine.

You can only stand there in stunned confusion as he sighs and tucks your phone into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. “I was thinking about what you said earlier. It’s my fault, you know?”

You swallow, wetting your lips as he pushes off the countertop to make his way towards you. “Y-your fault for what?”

“For letting you get away, after graduation,” he says simply, like it’s _nothing_. “I wanted you, sweetheart, wanted you so _fucking_ bad, even back then, but I guess I was too chicken shit to do anything about it.”

Your heart thumps unsteadily in your chest, a cold, icy sludge seeping through your veins, settling into the pit of your stomach. Fear, you realise belatedly. You’re afraid of him - afraid of Kuroo. None of this makes sense, not the words coming out of his mouth or the piercing, possessive glint in his eyes. It feels like it should be a prank, as if at any moment he’s going to break character, slap you on the back and laugh like a hyena over how gullible you are.

But you don’t think Kuroo is joking. 

Dark eyes drink in every minute movement as he advances - the slight tremble in your hands, the tiny, skittish step back, and a slow, cruel smirk spreads across his lips. “I let you slip away from me once, baby, but I am not about to let Miya fuckin’ Atsumu, or Bokuto or any other asshole who wants to try their luck swoop in and steal you away from me now.”

You squeak as he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you flush against him. “You’re _mine_ , sweetheart,” he growls, “it’s about time you learned that.”

His lips crash against yours.


End file.
